LOOKING  UNTO  JESUS. 


A 

SERMON, 


OCCASIONED  BY  THE  DEATH  OF 


MRS.  MARTHA  ANN  RHEA, 


PREACHED  AT 


OROOMIAH,  PERSIA, 


OCTOBER  1 1,  1857, 


BY 

REV.  AUSTIN  II.  WRIGHT,  M.  D. 

Missionary  of  the  Am.  Board  of  Com.  for  For.  Missions. 


PUBLISHED  BY  REQUEST. 


BOSTON: 

PRESS  OF  T.  R.  MARVIN  & SON,  42  CONGRESS  STREET. 

1 85  8. 


LOOKING  UNTO  JESUS 


It 


A 

SERMON, 


OCCASIONED  BY  THE  DEATH  OF 


MRS.  MARTHA  ANN  RHEA, 


TREACHED  AT 


OROOMIAH,  PERSIA, 


OCTOBER  1 1,  1857, 


BY 

REV.  AUSTIN  II.  WRIGHT,  M.  D. 

Missionary  of  the  Am.  Board  of  Com.  for  For.  Missions. 


PUBLISHED  BY  REQUEST. 


BOSTON: 

PRESS  OF  T.  R.  MARVIN  & SON,  42  CONGRESS  STREET. 

1 8 5 8. 


Hi#  4 i 


SERMON. 


HEBREWS  xil.  2. 

LOOKING  UNTO  JESUS,  THE  AUTHOR  AND  FINISHER  OF  OUR  FAITH. 

If  I mistake  not,  it  would  occur  to  every  one  of  those, 
whose  lot  it  was  to  minister  at  the  sick  and  dying  bed  of  that 
beloved  member  of  our  circle  whose  removal  from  among  us 
calls  us  together  to-day  to  mingle  our  tears,  that  these  words, 
“ Looking  unto  Jesus,”  are  a theme  peculiarly  fitting  the 
occasion.  May  I not  say  the  same  of  all  those  who  have 
read  the  touching  story  of  the  last  days  of  our  sister,  penned 
by  our  bereaved  brother  ? Looking  unto  Jesus  ! ” How 
steady  was  that  gaze ! How  fixed  that  eye  ! How  absorbed 
that  mind  with  the  glorious  object,  lulling  the  violence  of 
bodily  pain,  and  soothing  the  ruffled  spirit  during  those  days 
and  nights  of  weariness  and  suffering. 

“ Looking  unto  Jesus.”  As  used  by  the  Apostle,  the 
phrase  appears  to  have  a gymnastic  sense.  He  had  illus- 
trated the  nature  and  power  of  faith  in  the  preceding  chap- 
ter, by  the  example  of  numerous  ancient  worthies.  They, 
as  it  were,  sat  around,  earnest  spectators  of  the  scenes  exhib- 
ited at  the  period  of  the  ancient  games.  The  Apostle  and 
his  fellow-believers  had  entered  the  lists  ; the  Christian  race 
was  to  be  run ; and  he  says,  “ Wherefore,  seeing  we  also  are 
compassed  about  with  so  great  a cloud  of  witnesses,  let  us 
lay  aside  every  weight,  and  the  sin  which  doth  so  easily  beset 
us,  and  let  us  run  with  patience  the  race  that  is  set  before  us, 


BURTON  HIST.  COLLECTION 
DETROIT 

EXCHANGE  DUPLICATE 


4 


looking  unto  Jesus,  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith  ; 
who,  for  the  joy,”  &c.  Jesus  is  the  goal  to  be  reached,  on 
which  the  eye  is  intently  fixed,  and  to  attain  which  every 
nerve  is  strained. 

The  idea  of  Christ,  as  an  example,  is  also  involved.  “For 
consider  him  that  endured  such  contradiction  of  sinners 
against  himself,  lest  ye  be  wearied  and  faint  in  your  minds. 
Ye  have  not  resisted  unto  blood,  striving  against  sin.” 

Looking  is  no  rare  figure  of  Scripture  to  express  faith, 
trust.  “ Look  unto  me  and  be  ye  saved,  all  ye  ends  of  the 
earth.”  The  story  of  the  brazen  serpent  illustrates  the  same 
idea.  The  poor  people  were  sick  and  dying.  The  brazen 
serpent  was  raised  up  in  the  midst  of  the  camp,  and  they 
were  directed  to  look  unto  it  and  live.  They  who  looked, 
lived  ; they  who  looked  not,  died. 

Looking  unto  Jesus,  implies  a looking  away  from  all  other 
objects.  The  eye,  intently  fastened  on  him,  can  fasten  on 
nothing  else.  He  fills  the  field  of  vision,  to  the  exclusion 
of  every  other  object.  He  is  Jesus , Savior ; Savior  from 
sin  ; Savior  from  its  condemnation  and  power ; Savior  from 
endless  suffering — the  second  death.  What  a Name  ! What 
a Being ! What  treasures  of  blessing  are  laid  up  in  Him  for 
poor  lost  creatures  like  us  ! He,  a Savior — his  name  is 
Jesus — and  we,  sinners.  He  came  to  seek  and  to  save  that 
which  was  lost. 

Author  and  finisher  of  our  faith ; the  Alpha  and  Omega, 
the  first  and  the  last,  in  our  salvation.  When  there  was  no 
eye  to  pity,  nor  arm  to  save,  his  heart  yearned  over  us,  as  we 
lay  in  our  blood ; and  on  the  wings  of  love  he  came  to  our 
help.  He  gave  his  life  for  ours,  his  blood  for  our  blood — 
met  the  demands  of  the  law,  and  opened  a way  by  which 
God,  the  Father,  might  be  just,  and  still  justify  the  sinner. 
This  work  was  all  done,  and  still  we  were  wedded  to  our 
sins,  set  on  our  idols,  and  pressing  on  to  death.  He  fol- 
lowed us  in  his  love  by  his  Spirit,  called  after  us,  constrained 


0 


us,  and  made  us  willing.  We  love  him,  because  he  first 
loved  us.  He,  then,  is  the  author  of  our  faith,  the  beginner 
of  it.  He  laid  the  foundation  for  it,  and  he  wrought  it  in 
us.  “ By  grace  are  ye  saved ; and  that  not  of  yourselves, 
it  is  the  gift  of  God.”  He,  too,  is  the  finisher  of  our  faith. 
He  commenced  the  work,  and  he  will  complete  it.  He  sus- 
tains and  strengthens,  day  by  day.  He  carries  the  soul  on 
from  one  triumph  to  another  in  the  divine  life,  working  in  us 
to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure,  till  he  has  finished 
the  work  which  he  begun,  and  the  redeemed  sinner  stands  a 
holy,  sanctified  being  on  Mount  Zion  above,  his  whole  heart 
swelling  with  gratitude  and  love,  impelling  him  to  cast  his 
crown  at  the  Savior’s  feet,  and  to  cry,  f Grace,  grace — all  of 
grace.5 

But  our  duty  to-day,  brethren  and  sisters,  is  a special  one. 
Another  of  our  beloved  circle  has  passed  away,  and  we  are 
met  to  dwell  on  her  cherished  memory,  and  to  gather  useful 
lessons  for  ourselves  from  her  sweet,  lovely  character,  and 
her  humble,  holy  walk.  What  meaneth  the  Lord’s  dealings 
with  us  ? In  less  than  nine  short  months,  three  members  of 
our  missionary  band  have  gone  to  the  grave.  The  turf  is 
still  fresh  and  green  over  the  narrow  house  of  one,  and  we 
are  called  to  the  sad  duty  of  performing  the  last  rites,  and 
committing  to  the  dust,  another.  But  it  is  the  Lord , and 
we  silently,  though  tearfully,  bow  to  his  all-wise  decree, 
and  seek  help  that  we  may  do  it  submissively . 

Mrs.  Martha  Ann  Rhea  was  born  in  Westminster,  Ver- 
mont, April  4,  1828.  She  was  a daughter  of  Mr.  James 
and  Mrs.  Eunice  Harris.  Her  mother  died  about  the  year 
1846.  Her  father  lived  till  August,  1855,  when  he  was 
suddenly  called  to  the  presence  of  his  God.*  Both  of  her 
parents  were  godly  people,  and  trained  up  their  children  in 
the  fear  of  the  Lord.  The  family  was  a numerous  one. 

* Leaving  a railroad  car,  he  made  a misstep,  fell  on  the  track,  and  was 
crushed  by  the  moving  train. 


6 


Two  sons  and  three  daughters  survive,  to  mourn  with  us 
the  departure  of  their  sister,  Martha.  One  of  the  sons  is 
Dr.  Elisha  Harris,  a laborious,  self-sacrificing  and  excellent 
physician  in  New  York  city. 

When  our  departed  sister  was  of  a tender  age,  the  family 
removed  to  Homer,  New  York,  where  the  other  son  and 
two  sisters  still  reside.  At  this  place,  she  enjoyed  superior 
advantages  for  acquiring  an  education,  which  she  faithfully 
improved.  At  the  early  age  of  fourteen,  she  was  brought  to 
a sense  of  her  lost  condition  as  a sinner,  led  to  trust  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  as  her  Savior,  and  make  a public  profession  of 
religion.  We  have  no  record  of  her  experiences  at  that 
time ; but,  from  the  earnestness,  sincerity  and  depth  of  her 
character,  w*e  know  that  there  was  nothing  superficial  or 
formal  in  them.  Her  feelings  were  deep,  her  decision  earn- 
est, and  her  soul  absorbed. 

At  the  age  of  seventeen,  her  attention  was  arrested  by  the 
subject  of  Missions,  and  her  inclination  prompted  her  to 
engage  in  the  missionary  work.  The  way,  however,  was  not 
opened,  so  that  she  could  see  it  her  duty  to  enter  the  foreign 
field.  Still  she  had  a strong  desire  to  occupy  some  post  of 
usefulness,  greater  than  that  under  the  paternal  roof.  Christ 
having  done  so  much  for  her,  she  longed  to  do  something  for 
him.  About  the  year  1848,  when  she  was  twenty  years  of 
age,  a call  reached  her  ear  from  that  useful  Association,  which, 
under  the  direction  of  Gov.  Slade,  of  Vermont,  has  been 
for  many  years  occupied  in  searching  out  competent  female 
teachers,  and  in  sending  them  to  the  destitute  regions  of  the 
Western  States.  This  enterprise  was  in  accordance  with  her 
resolute,  energetic  spirit,  opened  a field  for  the  exercise  of 
her  peculiar  talents  as  a teacher,  and  an  unlimited  scope  for 
usefulness.  Before  proceeding  to  the  West,  she  repaired  to 
Hartford,  Connecticut,  according  to  the  rules  of  the  Associ- 
ation, where  she  spent  several  weeks  in  attending  lectures, 
and  prosecuting  studies,  preparatory  to  her  future  work. 


She  spent  two  years  at  the  West,  in  her  favorite  occupa- 
tion of  teaching.  We,  who  have  had  beloved  children  under 
her  tuition,  need  not  to  be  told,  that  her  pupils  made  rapid 
progress  in  their  studies  during  that  time.  She,  too,  was 
faithful  in  laboring  for  the  souls  of  her  pupils.  Under  her 
earnest  efforts  for  their  salvation,  her  school  was  blessed  with 
a revival  of  religion,  and  several  of  her  scholars  were  led  to 
Christ.  The  gracious  work  extended  to  the  community 
around. 

The  business  of  teaching  furnished  such  a field  for  the 
exercise  of  her  remarkable  talents  as  a teacher,  and  of  her 
piety  as  a Christian,  that  she  determined  to  make  it  the  great 
employment  of  her  life,  and  entered  into  engagements  with 
this  in  view.  Having  spent  two  years  at  the  West,  she  vis- 
ited her  home  in  Homer,  intending  to  return  after  a brief 
period,  there  to  devote  her  life  to  her  favorite  pursuit.  But 
God’s  plan  was  otherwise.  The  East , and  not  the  West, 
was  to  be  the  scene  of  her  toils.  She  was  bereft ; her  plans 
were  frustrated.  Just  at  this  period,  when  her  sense  of  be- 
reavement was  fresh  and  keen — when  the  world  was  dark, 
and  only  Christ  and  his  salvation  were  inviting  to  her  soul — 
she  heard,  through  Mrs.  Dr.  Green,  of  Homer,  that  a teacher 
was  wanted  for  the  children  of  the  Nestorian  mission.  Then 
commenced  that  singular  and  mysterious  history,  in  which 
the  lives  of  our  departed  sister  and  her  sorrow-stricken 
friend,  Mrs.  Crane,  were  so  much  involved,  and  which  is 
too  familiar  to  us  all  to  call  for  detail.  We  may,  however, 
allude  to  the  great  fact,  that  Mrs.  Crane  already  regarded  our 
departed  friend  as  a principal  instrument  in  the  hands  of  God 
in  leading  her  to  seek  the  salvation  of  her  soul. 

Miss  Harris  was  not  long  in  deciding  the  question  of  duty. 
If  I mistake  not,  three  weeks  had  not  elapsed  since  her  west- 
ern plans  were  frustrated,  before  she  was  convinced,  that 
she  was  called  of  the  Lord  to  proceed  to  Oroomiah.  She 
thought  that  she  might  have  erred  in  dismissing  the  question 


8 


of  missions,  five  years  before,  too  soon,  and  that  her  Heavenly 
Father  was  in  this  way  disciplining  her.  She  had,  besides, 
a decided  love  for  the  missionary  work,  and  in  instructing 
the  children  of  the  mission,  she  would  be  occupied  in  her 
favorite  employment. 

This  was  the  summer  of  1851.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Crane  were 
expecting  to  bid  adieu  that  season  to  their  native  land,  des- 
tined to  the  Nestorian  mission,  and  it  was  arranged  that  Miss 
Harris  should  accompany  them.  She  took  leave  of  her 
friends  in  Homer,  and  proceeded  to  New  York  city  to  be  in 
readiness.  Her  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Crane,  were  unable, 
on  account  of  the  diseased  eyes  of  Mrs.  Crane,  to  proceed  to 
their  field  of  labor  till  the  following  year.  Miss  Harris  was 
detained  in  New  York  till  October.  On  the  17th  of  that 
month,  she  sailed  in  the  ship  Leland,  from  Boston,  in  the 
compamy  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morgan,  who  were  destined  to 
the  Jewish  mission  at  Salonica.  The  voyage  was  a pro- 
tracted one,  much  beyond  the  usual  time.  Mr.  Dwight 
wrote  to  us  from  Constantinople,  that  they  were  there  seri- 
ously apprehensive  that  some  disaster  had  befallen  the  vessel. 
They,  however,  reached  Constantinople  in  safety,  though  not 
until  the  following  February.  Here  our  sister  remained 
until  the  following  May,  making  herself  very  useful  to  the 
missionary  families  there,  by  teaching  their  children,  and 
greatly  endearing  herself  to  them  all.  They  would  gladly 
have  detained  her  with  them,  but  she  was  destined  to  a more 
remote  field,  where  her  presence  was  earnestly  longed  for  by 
several  missionary  families.  Mr.  Cochran,  in  April,  pro- 
ceeded to  Trebizond  to  meet  her.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sutphen, 
who  were  then  at  that  place,  accompanied  them  a few  days 
on  the  way  to  Erzroom.  Two  of  our  sister’s  traveling  com- 
panions, Mrs.  Morgan  and  Mr.  Sutphen,  were  called  before 
her  to  rest  in  Christ. 

July  1st,  the  day  of  the  arrival  of  Miss  Harris  in  Oroo- 
miah,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Cochran,  was  a glad  day  to  mis- 


9 


sionary  parents,  anxious  for  their  beloved  children.  Hope, 
long  deferred,  had  almost  made  their  hearts  sick.  One  dis- 
appointment after  another  had  occurred  in  the  efforts  to 
secure  a teacher,  till  we  began  to  despair  of  success.  Our 
brother  Stoddard  had  toiled  hard  in  America  to  find  one, 
and  had  returned  to  us  disappointed.  But  now,  a teacher  had 
actually  arrived.  None,  but  those  who  know  a missionary 
parent’s  heart,  can  comprehend  the  emotions  awakened  in 
being  permitted  to  greet  a teacher  in  our  circle,  and  such  an 
one  as  our  friend  promised  to  be. 

July  14th,  the  following  resolution  was  passed  by  the  mis- 
sion, viz : “ That  we  tender  to  the  Prudential  Committee  our 
sincere  thanks  for  their  efforts  to  secure  a teacher  for  our 
children,  and  congratulate  them  on  their  success  in  securing 
the  services  of  one  so  happily  qualified  for  the  position,  as 
Miss  Harris  appears  to  be.” 

For  two  years  it  was  our  privilege  to  have  her  in  our  circle, 
as  the  teacher  of  our  children ; and  though,  in  the  mys- 
terious providence  of  God,  events  transpired  which  were  a 
trial  to  her,  she  devoted  herself,  with  great  zeal  and  faithful- 
ness, to  the  work  of  instruction.  Within  two  months  after 
her  arrival,  Judith  Perkins,  then  the  eldest  child  in  our  juve- 
nile circle,  and  for  whose  education  fond  parents  had  long 
been  looking  to  the  coming  of  a teacher,  was  suddenly 
snatched  away  by  relentless  death — a heavy  blow  to  the  little 
school,  and  a sore  trial  to  the  beloved  teacher.  The  follow- 
ing year,  the  family  of  Mr.  Stocking,  then  the  largest  in  the 
mission,  left  us  for  our  native  land,  thus  seriously  breaking 
in  upon  the  numbers  of  the  school,  and  occasioning  the  kind 
teacher  many  anxious  thoughts.  Still,  a more  laborious, 
faithful  and  successful  teacher  we  never  saw.  She  did  not 
allow  these  discouragements  to  dampen  her  ardor,  or  to 
diminish  her  interest  in  the  remaining  children.  She  was 
not  one  to  be  disheartened  by  any  thing  which  might  occur 
in  the  path  of  duty,  and  she  believed  that  she  had  been  led 

a 


10 


by  a divine  hand  to  this  field.  I would  not  indulge  in  ex- 
travagant praise  ; but  I think  it  may  be  said,  in  perfect  truth, 
that,  as  a teacher  of  youth,  she  possessed  very  remarkable 
qualifications — that  she  was  indeed  a model.  She  won  the 
love  and  confidence  of  her  pupils  in  a high  degree,  and  her 
influence  over  them  was  unbounded.  She  was  firm,  and  at 
the  same  time  gentle.  She  governed  with  a calm,  but  steady 
hand. 

In  their  studies,  her  pupils  made  most  gratifying  progress, 
such  as  to  reflect  the  highest  credit  on  the  skill  and  faithful- 
ness of  their  teacher.  She  was  remarkably  successful  in 
promoting  mental  discipline , the  first  and  most  difficult  part 
of  a teacher’s  duty.  In  studies  conducing  to  this  end,  as 
arithmetic  and  kindred  branches,  we  were  often  not  only 
gratified,  but  astonished  at  the  progress  made  by  the  scholars. 
It  was  so  remarkable,  that  I well  remember  the  apprehension 
arising,  that  their  young  minds  might  be  tasked  to  an  inju- 
rious extent ; but  the  result  showed  that  their  teacher  was 
right,  and  we  were  wrong. 

Such  a teacher,  and  such  a school — what  a treasure  in  a 
mission  like  ours,  where  several  families  are  stationed  to- 
gether ! What  parent  can  give  his  undivided  thoughts  to 
the  missionary  work,  when  his  children  are  growing  up  with- 
out sufficient  means  of  education  ? But  life  must  have  its 
trials,  and  to  the  missionary  this  is  one. 

Miss  Harris,  in  addition  to  her  school  duties,  early  gave 
her  attention  to  the  Syriac  language,  and  made  rapid  pro- 
gress in  the  acquisition  of  it.  Though  sent  out  as  a teacher 
of  missionary  children,  she  could  not  rest  contented  without 
preparing  herself  for  usefulness  to  the  full  extent  of  her 
powers ; and  as  the  school  was  not  as  large  as  she  expected 
to  find  it,  her  mind  turned  towards  Nestorian  females.  As 
soon  as  she  acquired  the  language,  she  commenced  the 
instruction  of  native  women  and  children,  and  frequented 
the  villages  as  she  had  opportunity.  It  is  estimated  that  dur- 


11 


ing  the  two  years  of  her  residence  in  Oroomiah,  she  rode  on 
horseback  at  least  six  hundred  miles  in  visiting  Nestorian 
villages  with  Mr.  Cochran,  in  whose  family  she  principally 
resided.  Here  she  sowed  much  good  seed,  which  we  trust 
will  spring  up  and  bring  forth  fruit  to  life  eternal.  The  two 
years  she  spent  in  Oroomiah  were  well  spent,  and  she  must 
have  looked  back  upon  them  with  satisfaction. 

But  Providence  had  destined  her  for  another  field  of  labor. 
The  call  of  duty  to  the  mountain  station  was  a plain  one,  and 
though  the  loss  to  our  cherished  school  was  irreparable,  her 
removal  to  another  portion  of  our  field  was  much  to  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  great  cause. 

On  the  25th  of  October,  1854,  the  following  action  was 
taken  by  the  mission,  viz:  “Miss  M.  A.  Harris  having  just 
closed  her  connection  with  the  school  for  the  children  of  our 
mission,  for  another  important  sphere  of  labor  in  our  common 
field, 

“ Resolved , That  we  record  our  very  deep  sense  of  her 
unwearied  fidelity  and  great  success  in  the  instruction  of  our 
children,  during  the  two  years  and  several  months  of  her 
connection  with  it. 

“ Resolved , That  we  tender  to  Miss  Harris  the  assurance  of 
our  heartfelt  thanks  for  her  arduous  and  important  services  in 
the  school,  and  of  our  unabated  interest  in  her  welfare,  and 
our  best  wishes  and  prayers  for  her  happiness  and  prosperity, 
in  the  new  and  important  relations  she  is  about  to  assume.” 

On  the  31st  of  October,  she  was  united  in  marriage  with 
our  brother  and  associate,  Rev.  Samuel  A.  Rhea ; and  on  the 
8th  of  the  following  month,  proceeded  with  him  to  Gawar,  to 
share  with  him  the  toils  and  self-denials  of  that  station.  His 
associate.  Rev.  Edwin  H.  Crane,  had  rested  from  his  labors 
about  two  months  before,  and  his  stricken  widow  had  with- 
drawn to  Oroomiah. 

On  reaching  Gawar,  Mrs.  Rhea  entered  zealously  upon  the 
discharge  of  every  duty  devolving  upon  her.  She  regarded 


it  as  a leading  duty,  to  make  her  husband  a pleasant  and  in- 
viting home,  that  nothing  might  be  wanting,  which  conduced 
to  his  health  and  happiness.  Her  success  in  this  respect 
(I  may  say,  while  I would  not  rudely  intrude  into  the 
privacies  of  that  once  happy  home)  was  complete.  Every 
thing  about  her  house  was  orderly ; and  though  plain,  in  good 
taste ; and  what  could  not  escape  the  notice  of  every  observer, 
all  she  did  was  done  in  a quiet,  noiseless  way,  as  though 
costing  very  little  effort.  Eor  one  so  intellectual,  so  fond  of 
books  and  study,  it  was  a marvel  to  some  of  us,  that  she 
could  be  such  a model  for  a housekeeper.  Her  character  was 
complete.  She  did  well  whatever  she  took  in  hand.  In  the 
kitchen,  in  preparing  a dinner,  she  manifested  the  same  tact, 
as  in  solving  an  arithmetical  problem.  It  was  the  last  of 
November,  only  a few  weeks  after  our  brother  and  sister  had 
reached  their  home,  that  Mr.  Perkins  and  myself  made  them 
a visit,  their  first  visit  from  friends  abroad.  A more  pleasant, 
a more  happy  home,  no  one  could  desire ; the  very  abode  of 
peace,  the  pilgrim’s  resting-place  in  this  vale  of  tears.  In 
our  musings,  when  seated  in  those  cheerful  upper-rooms,  we 
often  asked  ourselves,  “ Is  this  Gawar  ? Is  this  Memikan, 
that  place  of  vermin  and  filth  ? ” 

The  following  winter,  long  and  dreary  as  it  was,  our  friends 
passed  in  Gawar  in  solitude,  soothed  only  by  the  conscious- 
ness of  being  in  the  path  of  duty,  and  relieved  by  the  large 
resources  of  happiness,  which  they  possessed  in  themselves. 
Our  sister  was  deeply  interested  in  all  the  missionary  plans 
and  labors  of  her  husband,  and  such  was  her  judgment,  that 
in  many  cases  of  perplexity,  she  was  able  to  aid  him  by 
her  counsels.  She  not  only  managed  the  arduous,  and  often 
perplexing  domestic  department  of  the  boarding  school,  but 
performed  an  important  service  in  giving  instruction.  She 
won  the  hearts  of  the  rude  pupils,  as  she  had  those  of  the 
children  of  the  mission,  and  they  looked  up  to  her  as  a 
mother.  She  was  indefatigable  in  efforts  for  the  temporal  and 


13 


spiritual  good  of  the  females  of  the  village.  She  won  their 
confidence  and  love,  and  they  often  came  to  her  for  advice 
and  instruction.  She . frequented  their  humble  dwellings, 
weeping  with  them  that  weep,  and  rejoicing  with  them  that 
rejoice.  She  visited  their  sick,  and  ministered  to  their  wants. 

When  not  occupied  in  direct  efforts  to  be  useful  to  others, 
she  was  diligent  in  improving  her  own  mind,  and  in  laying 
up  stores  of  useful  information.  She  was  fond  of  reading, 
and  in  their  solitude  was  able  to  indulge  her  taste  in  this 
respect.  She  joined  her  husband,  this  winter,  in  the  study 
of  Hebrew,  and  read  with  him  the  book  of  Genesis  in  the 
original. 

Protracted  solitude  is  a trial  any  where  to  the  mind,  and 
no  one  can  bear  the  death-like  solitude  of  a Gawar  winter 
uninjured,  who  has  not  large  resources  within  on  which  to 
draw.  Most  happily  our  sister  possessed  these,  and  the 
winter  passed  pleasantly  and  usefully  away. 

The  following  summer,  early  in  August,  they  made  their 
first  visit  to  Oroomiah  since  their  marriage.  Her  husband, 
accompanied  by  Mr.  Breath,  made  a missionary  tour  in  the 
mountains,  and  visited  Mosul.  During  his  absence,  Mrs. 
Bhea  remained  in  our  circle,  enjoying  social  intercourse  in  a 
high  degree  after  being  so  long  deprived  of  it,  and  making 
herself  useful  to  Nestorian  females  in  the  villages,  as  she  had 
opportunity. 

In  November,  they  returned  to  their  mountain  home,  and 
to  their  routine  of  duty  there.  Another  solitary  winter  was 
before  them  ; and  such  a winter  ! It  was  not  enough  that 
they  had  to  meet  the  extreme  cold  and  fierce  storms  of 
that  treasure-house  of  snow ; the  moral  elements  around 
them  had  caught  the  spirit  of  the  natural , and  the  tempest 
raged.  War  prevailed  in  the  North.  Turkish  troops  had 
been  withdrawn  from  Koordistan,  till  only  a handful  of  men 
were  left  there  to  control  the  restless  and  turbulent  tribes  of 
that  wild  region.  The  Koord  had  seized  the  sword,  was 


u 


mustering  his  savage  bands,  and  threatening  to  sweep  all 
order  and  government  from  the  mountains.  The  Christian 
population  were  trembling,  not  only  for  their  property,  but 
for  their  lives.  What  a place  for  a delicate,  refined  and 
sensitive  female  ! — entirely  at  the  mercy  of  the  savage ; for, 
when  inflamed  by  fanaticism  and  the  thirst  for  plunder,  the 
Koord  is  more  than  a savage.  Reports  of  predatory  and 
bloody  purposes  are  abroad  in  the  community,  and  reach  the 
ears  of  our  defenceless  friends.  We  may  imagine  the  nightly 
visions  of  a house  sacked  by  robbers — a husband  falling  by 
the  hand  of  violence,  and  herself  the  victim  of  monsters  in 
human  form — robbing  our  sister  of  her  necessary  rest.  We 
shall  probably  never  know  the  full  amount  of  her  sufferings, 
during  the  long  and  anxious  days  and  nights  of  that  winter. 
Great  as  the  trial  was  to  leave  their  little  flock  in  Memikan, 
and  turn  their  backs  on  Gawar,  duty  obviously  called  them 
to  it  for  a time.  By  longer  remaining  there,  they  would 
be  tempting  Providence,  and  running  the  risk  of  some  fear- 
ful disaster.  But  it  was  the  dead  of  winter.  The  whole 
region  was  covered  with  snow,  and  the  mountain-passes  lead- 
ing from  the  district  were  blocked  up.  What  should  be 
done  ? The  finger  of  Providence  pointed  them  to  Oroo- 
miah.  That  indeed  was  their  only  place  of  refuge.  They 
started,  trusting  in  God.  It  was  near  the  last  of  Jan- 
uary. The  first  day,  our  sister  was  able  to  ride,  and  for  a 
while  also  the  second  day.  But  on  the  mountain  separating 
Gawar  from  Oroomiah,  the  snows  were  too  deep  for  the 
horses  to  carry  their  riders.  Our  friends  were  obliged  to 
walk,  and  that  too  in  the  deep  snow.  For  several  hours 
that  day,  indeed  till  they  had  nearly  reached  the  village  of 
Basan,  situated  on  the  declivity  of  the  mountain  on  the  Oroo- 
miah side,  Mrs.  Rhea  was  unable  to  mount  her  horse.  We 
marvel  that  her  strength  did  not  fail,  and  that  she  did  not 
fall  exhausted  at  the  road-side.  An  unseen  Hand  upheld  her. 
On  it  she  leaned,  and  in  those  trying  hours  purposed  to  be 


15 


more  entirely  the  Lord’s,  if  he  would  carry  her  and  her  hus- 
band to  Oroomiah  in  safety. 

They  reached  us  unharmed.  After  a few  days  of  rest, 
they  went  out  on  a tour  in  the  villages  in  the  diocese  of  Mar 
Yohannan,  during  which  our  sister  accomplished  much  good. 
I have  heard  her  spoken  of,  in  my  visits  to  that  part  of  our 
field  since  that  time,  as  that  f agreeable,  wise  and  excellent 
khanum,’  (lady.) 

They  remained  in  our  circle,  both  of  them  engaged  in  use- 
ful labors,  till  near  the  last  of  May,  when,  a degree  of  order 
having  been  restored  to  the  mountains,  they  hastened  to 
resume  their  post  there.  Mrs.  Crane,  proposing  to  pass 
some  time  with  her  early  friend,  as  well  as  to  discharge  a sad 
duty  she  owed  the  memory  of  her  departed  husband  by  visit- 
ing his  grave,  accompanied  them  as  far  as  Baradost,  thirty 
miles  from  Oroomiah,  but  was  constrained  to  return  on  ac- 
count of  the  sickness  of  her  child.  It  seemed  to  be  the  will 
of  God  that  our  sister  should  have  no  female  companion  in 
Gawar. 

The  last  of  September,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bhea  planned  a tour 
in  the  mountain  districts  beyond  Gawar,  where  native  helpers 
were  located.  Their  object  was  to  visit  them,  and  to  per- 
form missionary  labor  among  the  people.  They  started  from 
Gawar  alone,  but  were  joined  in  Ishtazin  by  Messrs.  Stod- 
dard and  Cochran  and  Miss  Fisk,  who  had  left  Oroomiah 
October  1st,  on  a mountain  tour.  They  visited  the  districts 
of  Ishtazin,  Bass,  Tekhoma,  Tal,  and  Diss.  No  lady  had 
ever  penetrated  those  wild  and  rugged  regions,  except  the 
near  district  of  Ishtazin.  The  journey  was  most  arduous, 
taxing  the  strength  of  muscle  and  nerve  to  the  utmost. 
Though  the  effort  was  too  great  to  be  often  repeated,  Mrs. 
Bhea  was  glad  that  she  made  the  tour.  She  saw  much  of 
the  field  to  which  she  and  her  husband  were  devoted ; she 
visited  the  helpers  in  their  homes,  and  could  better  sympa- 
thize with  and  pray  for  them ; she  spoke  the  words  of  life  to 


16 


many  perishing  females  ; she  was  made  to  realize  more  than 
ever,  how  inviting  her  Gawar  home  was,  in  contrast  with  the 
more  rugged  and  inaccessible  parts  beyond.  She  was  thus 
prepared  to  spend  the  following  winter  contentedly  and  hap- 
pily, though  in  solitude. 

The  winter  passed  without  interruption.  Government  and 
order  had  been  partially  restored.  A small  but  interesting 
school  assembled  in  Memikan,  and  our  friends  were  greatly 
encouraged  in  their  work — more  so,  perhaps,  than  at  any 
previous  time  since  they  had  resided  in  the  mountains.  The 
Holy  Spirit  appeared  to  be  sealing  some  souls  for  eternal  life. 

For  a while,  during  the  winter,  the  roads  were  so  blocked 
up  by  snow,  that  it  was  impracticable  for  any  one  but  a light 
footman  to  pass  over  them.  We  did  not  hear  the  most  favor- 
able accounts  of  the  health  of  our  brother  Rhea.  What  an 
agony  of  anxiety  we  endured  ! We  thought  of  one  of  them 
as  sick,  the  other  worn  out  with  watching,  and  perhaps  clos- 
ing the  dying  eyes,  and  laying  the  dear  one  in  the  grave ; 
and  that,  too,  all  alone.  Our  hardy  messengers  were  for  a 
time  so  long  on  the  way,  that  all  this  might  occur,  and  we 
know  nothing  of  it  till  all  was  over.  But  they  were  merci- 
fully preserved. 

The  winter  passed ; spring  opened ; the  snows  melted 
away  ; and  in  June  our  dear  friends  were  once  more  on  their 
way  to  Oroomiah.  They  arrived  June  18th,  and  continued 
with  us  till  July  22d,  except  that  Mr.  Rhea,  in  the  mean- 
while, made  a journey  to  Bashkalleh  and  Van,  in  which  I 
accompanied  him.  The  main  object  of  their  visit  to  Oroo- 
miah, at  this  time,  was  to  mingle  their  tears  with  those  of 
the  crushed  and  broken  in  our  circle,  whose  house  had  be- 
come desolate  by  the  sorrowful  events  of  the  past  winter. 
Our  lamented  sister  came  to  cheer  and  comfort  the  bereaved 
widow’s  heart,  and  to  weep  over  that  dear  child  who  had  lost 
a beloved  father,  and  an  only  sister,  in  so  short  a space  of 
time.  She  came  an  angel  of  mercy.  Her  heart  was  full  of 


17 


love  and  tenderness.  She  seemed  anointed  of  the  Lord  to 
administer  consolation  to  the  desolate  ones.  So  chastened, 
so  subdued,  so  sweet  in  temper  and  spirit — her  soul  so  pos- 
sessed pf  eternal  realities — her  large,  speaking,  dark  eye  so 
beaming  with  sympathy  and  compassion  for  her  mourning 
friends — her  visit  could  not  be  other  than  one  of  blessing  to 
them.  The  death  of  our  beloved  associate,  Mr.  Stoddard, 
and  of  her  former  pupil,  Harriet  Stoddard,  had,  it  was 
thought,  made  a deep  impression  upon  her  mind,  leading 
her  to  drink  deeper  of  the  wells  of  salvation  than  ever  before, 
and  to  clearer  views  of  Christ  and  heaven.  She  had  taken  a 
higher  stand  in  divine  things,  and,  as  was  remarked,  seemed 
ripening  for  glory.  Her  Lord  was  polishing  her  to  be  a 
jewel  in  his  crown.  It  appeared  in  her  gentle,  holy  walk 
with  God,  and  in  her  earnest,  soul-stirring  pleas  at  the  throne 
of  grace. 

July  22d,  our  friends  were  ready  to  return  to  their  moun- 
tain home.  Mrs.  Rhea  had  often  expressed  the  idea,  that 
probably  her  husband’s  days  would  be  few,  as  he  is  at 
times  admonished  that  his  health  is  not  perfect.  As  she  was 
about  leaving,  she  alluded  to  the  subject  again,  and  remarked 
that  she  thought  she  might  soon  be  a widow.  Enjoying 
excellent  health  herself,  it  seems  hardly  to  have  entered  her 
mind,  that  she  might  be  the  first  to  enter  the  grave. 

We  are  all  familiar  with  what  transpired  from  this  time  to 
the  closing  scene,  from  the  sketch  drawn  up  by  our  bereaved 
brother,  but  on  this  occasion  we  may  dwell  on  the  events, 
though  it  be  a repetition.  The  religious  experience  of  our 
sister  was  remarkable  during  her  last  days.  While  her 
bodily  sufferings  abounded,  her  consolations  in  Christ  much 
more  abounded. 

Our  friends  spent  their  first  night  at  the  village  of  Jeneza, 
twelve  miles  from  the  city  of  Oroomiah.  Mrs.  Rhea  was 
apparently  in  perfect  health.  The  next  morning,  just  as  she 
was  going  out  to  mount  her  horse,  she  was  seized  with  a 
3 


18 


violent  paroxysm  of  pain,  which  compelled  her  to  return  to 
the  house.  In  the  course  of  twenty  or  thirty  minutes,  the 
pain  subsided,  and  they  proceeded  opL  their  journey.  She 
made  the  stages  comfortably,  except  that  in  crossing  the  plain 
of  Gawar  she  had  a return  of  pain,  though  it  was  not  violent. 
She  was  relieved  by  resting  a while  in  the  shade  of  the  church 
at  Yazerawa,  one  hour  from  Memikan.  They  reached  home 
Friday,  July  24th.  The  next  morning  our  sister  had  a return 
of  pain,  but  it  soon  passed  off ; and  the  next  day,  Sabbath,  she 
attended  the  usual  Syriac  services  at  church,  and  taught  her 
class  of  native  women.  From  this  time  till  August  6th,  she 
was  well.  She  then  had  another  attack,  and  also  on  the  18th} 
though  the  violence  of  these  attacks  was  not  great.  On  the 
20th  she  went  out  to  their  garden,  and  on  returning  to  the 
house  was  violently  attacked,  so  that  it  was  with  difficulty  she 
reached  her  room.  Mr.  Rhea,  having  hastened  back  from  his 
walk,  found  her  lying  on  the  bed  in  great  agony.  “ The 
perspiration  was  bursting  from  every  pore.”  The  attacks 
being  repeated  and  their  violence  so  great,  Mr.  Rhea  dis- 
patched a messenger  to  Oroomiah,  requesting  me  to  visit  her. 
Accompanied  by  Miss  Rice,  I reached  Gawar  August  28th. 
At  this  time,  she  was  nearly  well  again — attended  to  all  her 
household  concerns,  ate  heartily  and  with  a relish.  Saturday 
evening  she  walked  out  with  us  to  the  new  house,  built  by 
Khamis  one  of  their  native  helpers,  without  injury.  I never 
saw  her  more  cheerful  and  happy.  Though  no  alarming 
symptoms  appeared  in  her  case,  I should  have  lingered  there 
longer,  if  duties  connected  with  the  departure  of  our  friends* 
for  America,  had  not  called  me  home.  I left  Gawar  Monday, 
August  31st.  At  3 o’clock  in  the  afternoon  of  that  day,  she 
was  attacked  more  violently  than  ever.  She  thought  that 
death  was  near,  and  spoke  freely  on  the  subject.  In  the 
language  of  her  husband,  “ Jesus  seemed  very  near  to  her 


* Mrs.  Perkins,  Henry  Martyn  Perkins,  Mrs.  Crane  and  child. 


19 


during  the  pangs  of  those  hours.  Her  soul  was  ravished 
with  his  charms.  Speaking  of  him  she  said : f He  is  pure, 
holy,  lovely  beyond  my  understanding.  I long  to  fall  at  his 
feet,  and  look  up  in  his  face.  I long  to  see  him  more  closely, 
and  understand  him  more  perfectly.  I had  always  turned  my 
thoughts  to  God,  as  my  Father  and  Protector,  but  now  Jesus, 
so  lovely  and  winning.  Let  me  not  be  deceived.  No,  Jesus 
came  to  save  lost  sinners,  of  whom  I am  chief.  He  will  save 
me.  Who  could  have  thought  that  such  a wretched  creature 
as  I am,  would  love  to  think  of  death  ? There  have  been 
times  when  I did  not  fear  death — I love  to  talk  about  it 
now.5  55 

From  this  attack  she  never  rallied.  On  hearing  of  her 
state,  I hastened  back  to  Gawar,  reaching  there  Saturday 
night,  September  5th.  I found  her  very  ill.  Symptoms  of 
internal  inflammation  had  appeared.  The  anxiety  of  that 
night,  how  I passed  the  long  hours  awake  in  the  room  adjoin- 
ing the  sick-room  with  a heavy  heart,  and  how  I was  afraid 
to  give  full  expression  to  my  fears,  lest  a loving  husband,  a 
beloved  brother,  should  be  distressed,  no  one  there  knew. 

On  Monday,  the  7th  of  September,  she  had  another  par- 
oxysm of  pain,  the  only  one  of  the  kind,  which  I was  permit- 
ted to  witness.  It  was  severe,  and  our  hearts  bled  as  we 
looked  upon  her  in  her  sufferings.  All  we  did  for  her  relief 
seemed  to  produce  little  effect,  certainly  none  to  arrest  the 
disease,  though  by  the  use  of  powerful  agents  we  sometimes 
succeeded  in  palliating  the  severity  of  her  sufferings,  and 
giving  her  partial  repose. 

At  one  time,  this  day,  on  opening  her  eyes,  she  said  to 
her  husband,  who  supposed  that  she  had  just  waked  up, 
tf  No,  I have  been  conscious  of  all  that  was  passing  about  me. 
My  mind  was  very  clear.55  She  then  said,  “ Jesus  will  not 
take  me  from  you  now.  Oh!  it  was  so  sweet,  so  sweet. 
I thought  I was  going.  There  was  a company  of  us,  and 
we  were  moving  toward  the  river,  and  oh,  so  gently ; and 


20 


then  I saw  Jesus  coming  to  meet  me.  But  I did  not  see 
him  clearly ; so  I longed  to  get  nearer,  that  I might  see 
him,  but  after  a while  I turned  back.  Jesus  did  not  take 
me,  but  how  pleasant  it  would  have  been  to  go  then.  I 
thought  if  I did  not  open  my  eyes,  or  move,  or  speak,  I 
should  just  gently  sink  away  in  his  arms,  but  he  does  not 
take  me  from  you  now.”  Subsequently,  referring  to  her  ex- 
perience this  day,  she  said,  “ It  was  not  so  glorious,  but  so 
gentle — just  like  Jesus,  coming  to  take  his  children  home.” 

Some  time  before  this,  Mr.  Rhea  one  night  put  his  thoughts 
into  verse,  and  showed  them  to  Mrs.  Rhea  in  the  morning. 
They  may  have  given  a turn  to  her  mind  in  her  last  days ; 
and  as  every  such  influence  on  a departing  saint  is  above 
price,  I will  here  give  the  simple,  expressive  lines. 

I want  to  think  of  Jesus, 

’Mid  all  my  anxious  cares  ; 

I want  to  lean  on  Jesus, 

For  he  my  burden  bears. 

I want  to  walk  with  Jesus, 

Close  to  his  loving  side, 

And  see  the  wounds  of  Jesus, 

And  know  for  me  he  died. 

I want  to  talk  with  Jesus, 

And  tell  him  all  I feel, 

For  then  I know  my  Jesus 
Will  me  his  love  reveal. 

I want  to  look  at  Jesus 

With  eye  of  faith  and  love ; 

I’ll  draw  my  strength  from  Jesus, 

And  never  more  can  rove. 

I want  to  pray  to  J esus 
In  broken,  contrite  tones, 

And  hear  the  voice  of  Jesus 
In  answer  to  my  groans. 


21 


I want  to  sing  of  Jesus, 

Of  all  the  sweetest  name  ; 

The  dying  love  of  Jesus 

To  heaven  and  earth  proclaim. 

I want  to  tell  of  Jesus 
To  every  sinner  round, 

That  he  may  come  to  Jesus, 

At  last  in  him  he  found. 

I want  to  toil  for  Jesus, 

Oh,  how  he  toiled  for  me  ! 

I never  can  pay  Jesus 
His  sweat  and  agony. 

I want  to  put  on  Jesus 
And  hide  myself  in  him, 

For  ’neath  the  robes  of  Jesus 
I’ve  no  more  guilt  and  sin. 

I want  to  sleep  in  Jesus, 

For  then  ’twill  not  be  death, 

When  on  the  breast  of  J esus 
I draw  my  fainting  breath. 

I want  to  live  with  Jesus, 

The  endless  life  of  love ; 

When  safe  at  home  with  Jesus, 
In  Paradise  above. 

I want  to  praise  my  Jesus 
On  harp  of  burnished  gold, 

And  shout  the  love  of  Jesus 
Through  ages  yet  untold. 


Monday  night,  speaking  of  Christ,  she  said,  “ He  was  the 
Savior  of  my  father,  the  Savior  of  my  mother,  and  he  will 
be  a Savior  to  me.  I was  thinking  how  happy  was  my  father’s 


22 


death — -just  a moment,  and  then  with  Jesus ; but  it  is  his 
will  that  I should  suffer.” 

Mr.  Rhea  asked  her,  “ Is  Jesus  near?”  She  replied,  “ Oh 
yes  ; so  near,  and  he  is  so  lovely ! Whenever  my  severe 
pains  come  on,  then  Jesus  comes  and  helps  me  to  bear  them. 
Jesus  won’t  leave  me.”  Seeing  the  falling  tears  of  her  hus- 
band, she  wiped  them  away  with  her  hand,  saying,  “ He  will 
take  care  of  you  ; don’t  feel  sad.”  Such  expressions  as  these 
were  much  on  her  lips  : “ Jesus,  come.”  “ Wash  me  from  all 
my  sins.”  “ Make  me  wholly  thine.”  “ Oh,  what  a sinner 
I have  been,  but  Jesus  is  a great  Savior.  He  is  so  near,  so 
lovely,  I wonder  I never  saw  him  so  before.  Earth  fades 
away  ; this  world  is  nothing.  I know  there  is  nothing  in  me. 
Don’t  tell  others  what  I say,  they  will  think  me  holier  than  I 
am  ; but  it  is  all  of  Christ.  Oh,  shall  I remember,  if  I get 
well  ? It  would  be  so  easy  to  die  now  ; to  sink  into  the  arms 
of  Jesus.” 

The  next  morning,  Tuesday,  Mr.  Rhea  read  to  her  the 
passage,  “ In  my  Father’s  house  are  many  mansions,”  &c. 
She  said,  “ Oh,  the  blessedness  of  those  mansions.  Jesus  is 
there.  I love  my  home,  but  it  may  become  bitter  ; not  so 
those  mansions  above.”  At  another  time  she  said,  “ How 
sweet  to  lie  in  the  arms  of  Jesus,  and  have  him  bear  me  in 
his  bosom ! Oh,  can  I be  deceived  ? I think  not.  How 
many,  far  worthier  than  I,  who  did  not  enjoy  this  peace.” 

She  asked  her  husband,  to-day,  what  I said  about  her  case. 
When  he  replied,  that  I considered  it  critical,  but  was  still 
hopeful,  she  said,  her  mind  appearing  to  fasten  on  the  word 
critical,  “Well,  dear,  I am  rather  glad.  The  thought  of 
death  is  very  pleasant.  I have  had  no  fear  from  the  first. 
It  seems  as  if  it  would  help  me  to  bear  my  pains,  to  think  of 
a speedy  release.  Still,  it  is  not  because  I suffer,  that  I wish 
to  die.  I want  to  see  Jesus,  and  lie  at  his  feet.”  Seeing  her 
husband  affected,  she  said,  “ You  know,  dear,  I love  you ; 
but  we  must  love  Jesus  first.  It  will  not  be  long  until  we 


23 


all  meet.  Oh,  eternity,  eternity ! how  short  will  these  mo- 
ments then  appear ! ” 

In  the  afternoon,  a native  woman,  Bessy,  came  in.  She 
whispered  a brief  prayer  for  her  : “ Lord,  bless  Bessy ; make 
her  a true  Christian.”  She  wished  her  husband  to  say  to 
her,  “ Meet  me  in  heaven.  I want  only  two  things — my 
own  salvation,  and  the  salvation  of  these  poor  women.” 

On  Tuesday  night,  when  in  great  suffering,  she  prayed, 
“ Oh,  Jesus,  remember  thy  sufferings,  and  if  it  is  possible, 
lessen  mine.  But  not  my  will — thine  be  done.”  Again  she 
said,  “ Oh,  could  any  one  bear  it  better  than  I ? Perhaps  so, 
but  Jesus  groaned,  being  in  agony.”  Of  heaven  she  said, 
“ Oh,  that  home ! No  more  sin,  nor  sorrow,  nor  restless- 
ness.” “ Tell  brothers  and  sisters,  I never  regret  that  I gave 
myself  to  the  missionary  work.” 

She  said  again,  “ I think  I do  love  Jesus.  It  seemed  last 
winter,  as  if  I loved  him  so  much,  because  he  was  pleased  to 
bless  our  labors.  Oh,  I did  love  those  converts,  and  I was 
so  happy  in  the  thought  of  their  loving  Christ.”  When 
asked  by  her  husband,  if  at  any  time  she  was  troubled  with 
doubts,  she  replied,  “ No  ; none  at  all.  I don’t  know  why 
Jesus  comforts  such  a poor  sinner  as  I have  been.  All  is 
bright,  and  calm,  and  peaceful — not  because  of  any  thing  in 
me ; all  is  of  Jesus.  He  knows  I could  not  bear  my  suffer- 
ings, if  he  did  not  come  near  me.  Oh,  sweet  love,  your 
love ; but  more  than  all,  the  love  of  Jesus.  When  I am 
easier,  then  I do  not  think  so  much  of  being  happy,  as  to  see 
if  my  feet  are  on  the  rock.  Then  it  is  no  matter  about  joy  ; 
that  will  come  just  as  my  Savior  pleases.  But  when  I am 
suffering,  it  relieves  me,  soothes  me,  to  talk  of  Jesus,  and 
the  joy  he  gives  me.  Then  I think  more  of  being  happy, 
and  Jesus  gives  me  joy.”  Once  she  asked,  “Will  Jesus 
leave  me  ? ” Her  husband  repeated  the  words,  “ I will 
never  leave  thee  nor  forsake  thee.”  “ Oh,  yes,”  she  said ; 
“ but  I must  be  careful,  lest  my  eye  should  be  turned  away 


24 


from  Christ  to  my  sufferings,  and  I should  think  of  them 
more  than  of  Jesus.”  She  prayed  one  night,  while  in  severe 
pain,  “ Jesus,  come.  Stand  by  me.  Thou  wilt  support 
me.  Thou  wilt  cleanse  me.  Thou  didst  cleanse  the  dying 
thief.” 

At  another  time,  she  said  to  her  husband,  “ My  sickness 
is  not  because  I became  a missionary.  My  brothers  and 
sisters  will  know  this.  The  Lord  has  sent  it.  I never 
thought  I should  suffer  much.  I always  thought  you  would 
go  first.”  Though  racked  with  pain,  and  her  whole  frame 
at  times  shaking  like  a leaf  in  the  wind,  her  heart  was  full  of 
gratitude.  She  was  grateful  for  every  thing  ; for  her  pleas- 
ant room,  facing  the  east,  and  looking  out  upon  the  plain, 
like  the  “ chamber  of  peace  ; ” grateful  that  her  sickness  did 
not  occur  in  winter,  when  they  were  alone  ; grateful  for 
every  thing  done  for  her  by  her  husband,  Miss  Rice,  and  my- 
self. Though  her  sufferings  were  so  great,  she  was  thought- 
ful of  our  health  and  comfort.  She  urged  us  in  turn  to 
leave  her  bedside,  and  go  out  for  exercise. 

Having  employed  various  remedies  for  her  relief  with 
little  effect,  she  noticed  my  anxious  look,  and  said,  “ Doctors 
think  they  must  cure  ; but  though  you  don’t  cure  me,  you 
must  not  think  your  coming  was  in  vain.  You  have  helped 
to  take  care  of  me.” 

Though  she  made  great  effort  to  restrain  herself,  her  suf- 
ferings would  sometimes  find  expression  in  groans,  and  toss- 
ings on  the  bed.  At  such  times  she  often  prayed,  “ Let  me 
not  dishonor  God,  but  may  I have  grace  to  suffer  as  long  as 
it  is  his  will.”  One  night,  as  I was  watching  by  her,  she 
asked,  “ How  long  do  you  think  I could  live  and  suffer  so  ? ’’ 
To  my  reply,  that  I did  not  know  certainly,  but  not  long, 
she  said,  “ My  sufferings  will  end.  What  if  they  were 
eternal  ? ” “ When  my  eye  is  fixed  on  Jesus,  I am  easier. 

When  my  eye  turns  from  him,  my  pains  seem  more  than  I 
can  bear.”  Dear  saint ! thine  eye  was  fixed  on  Jesus  ; truly 


25 


thou  didst  fulfill  the  words  of  the  Apostle,  “ Looking  unto 
Jesus.’9 

One  morning,  after  having  watched  by  her  during  several 
hours  of  great  suffering  in  the  night,  she  said  to  me  pleas- 
antly, as  I entered  her  room,  “ What  a patient  you  had  last 
night ! It  makes  me  unhappy  to  think  how  impatient  I was.” 
She  seemed  really  distressed  that  she  had  given  expression 
to  her  pains  so  much.  I tried  to  comfort  her,  for  I felt 
keenly  for  her,  assuring  her  that  to  me  she  had  not  appeared 
at  all  impatient — that  the  flesh  was  weak — -that  her  poor 
body  was  racked  with  pain — that  impatience  was  in  the 
spirit , and  that  I did  not  see  how  a weak  mortal  could  pos- 
sibly show  a more  patient,  submissive  spirit,  than  she  did. 
She  once  said,  “ It  may  be  the  Lord  intends  to  purify  me  by 
these  pains  ; and  oh,  if  I may  be  led  by  them  to  hate  all  sin, 
how  should  I rejoice  to  bear  them  ! ” In  an  agony  she 
prayed,  “ Lord,  canst  thou  not  sanctify  me  by  this  ? Is  more 
necessary  ? It  will  be  all  in  vain,  unless  sanctified  by  God.” 

Some  expressions  in  a note  from  Mrs.  Stoddard,  as  “ not 
one  pang  more  than  is  necessary,”  “ mixed  with  the  tender- 
est  love,”  had  made  an  impression  on  her  mind,  and  were 
often  repeated  by  her,  adding,  “ Sweet  is  Jesus’  will.”  Once 
she  said  to  me,  “ Perhaps  these  severe  pains  are  necessary  to 
make  me  willing  to  die.  Life  was  pleasant  to  me — so  pleas- 
ant, and  I was  so  well,  that  I might  not  have  been  willing 
to  depart  without  them.”  When  the  words,  “ Come  unto 
me,  &c.,  and  I will  give  you  rest,”  were  repeated  to  her, 
she  dwelt  on  the  word  rest,  saying,  “ Rest,  rest ; it  will  be 
sweet.” 

On  Thursday  night,  after  various  means  had  been  em- 
ployed to  furnish  relief,  but  without  success,  she  said,  “ Why 
not  leave  me  to  die  ? ” Then  adding,  “ That  was  wrong  ; 
I will  wait  all  my  appointed  time.”  In  the  language  of 
her  bereaved  husband,  “ During  her  sickness,  she  was 
delighted  to  have  me  pray  with  her,  and  repeat  passages 
4 


of  Scripture  and  favorite  hymns.  Often  during  the  silent 
watches  of  the  night  I would,  while  sitting  by  her  bedside, 
lay  my  head  on  her  pillow,  and  whisper  a prayer.  Very 
often  it  soothed  her  into  quiet  rest.” 

When  asked  by  her  husband,  what  verses  of  Scripture 
were  most  precious  to  her,  she  said,  44  Like  these  : ‘For  the 
Son  of  man  is  come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost.’ 
4 Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners,  of  whom 
I am  chief.’  4 Able  to  save  unto  the  uttermost.’  ” Her  hus- 
band read  to  her  many  scores  of  very  precious  hymns,  which 
were  cheering  to  her  spirit,  and  in  his  language,  “kindled 
anew  her  ardent  longing  to  see  Jesus,  and  taste  the  blessed- 
ness of  heaven.”  The  last  hymn  sung  in  her  room  was  the 
one  beginning,  44  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul.”  Miss  Rice 
played  on  the  melodeon.  Those  hymns  were  the  dearest  to 
her,  which  dwelt  most  on  Him  whom  her  soul  loved.  44  She 
spoke  of  how  much  she  had  learned  of  Jesus  in  two  weeks, 
and  compared  it  with  what  she  had  learned  during  her  life- 
time before.” 

Our  afflicted  brother  writes,  “The  last  book  which  we 
read  together  was  the  Memoir  of  Richard  Williams,  of  the 
Patagonian  mission,  illustrating,  in  such  a wonderful  manner, 
the  power  of  the  love  of  Jesus  to  fill  the  heart  with  joy  un- 
speakable and  full  of  glory,  amidst  scenes  of  deep  distress. 
She  alluded  to  it  more  than  once  in  her  sickness.  I doubt 
not  it  had  its  influence  in  kindling  her  love  to  Jesus.  Dur- 
ing the  first  days  of  her  illness,  she  enjoyed  much  in  listen- 
ing to  a little  book  entitled,  4 It  is  I,’  read  to  her  by  Miss 
Rice.  Every  thing  that  brought  Jesus  near  her  thoughts, 
had  peculiar  attractions.” 

Friday  night  was  one  of  great  suffering  to  our  sister. 
Once  she  said,  44  Oh,  that  I knew  why  I thus  suffer  ; if  for 
some  sin,  that  I might  repent  of  it ; if  for  some  good,  that  I 
might  seek  it.  But  I know  it  is  right.”  It  was  in  this  night 
that  she  spoke  of  her  resolutions  to  be  more  faithful  in  the 


27 


service  of  God,  which  she  formed  on  that  perilous  journey 
to  Oroomiah,  and  also  at  the  time  of  the  death  of  our  brother 
Stoddard.  Once  she  said,  “ Oh,  this  longing  for  death  ; may 
it  be  pure.  When  I feel  better,  I am  content  to  live.  I 
have  loved  my  home  and  my  husband  too  much.  I hope 
one  day  we  shall  fall  together  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  and  kiss 
them.  How  happy  we  have  lived  together  ! I have  not 
helped  you  heavenward  enough.”  Her  prayer  once  was, 
“ Oh,  Jesus,  thou  who  didst  dwell  on  earth,  come  dwell  in 
this  room,  and  fill  our  hearts  with  thy  holiness  and  love. 
Jesus,  the  chief  among  ten  thousand.  Oh,  that  all  might 
love  him.  His  name  is  sweet.  The  very  mention  of  it 
soothes  me.”  Once  she  said,  “ I have  not  thought  enough 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  comforts  me,  and  gives  me  these 
views  of  Jesus.” 

Sabbath  morning,  as  it  grew  light,  she  said  to  Miss  Rice, 
who  was  watching  with  her,  “ The  darkness  is  past ; may  the 
light  of  Jesus’  countenance  shine  upon  me.  Pray  that  this 
day  may  be  a foretaste  of  heaven.”  By  Miss  Rice  she  sent 
a message  to  her  class  of  native  women  in  the  Sabbath  school. 
“ Tell  them  now  to  give  their  hearts  to  Him  who  loved  them. 
I cannot  talk  to  them,  but  I shall  pray  for  them.”  The 
evening  of  this  day  she  said,  “ This  has  been  a happy  day  to 
me  ; Jesus  near.  Oh,  the  peace  that  passeth  all  understand- 
ing. What  joys  are  laid  up  for  those  who  love  him  ! No 
eye  hath  seen,  nor  ear  heard.” 

Monday  morning,  September  14th,  she  had  some  respite 
from  severe  pain,  from  the  effect  of  an  opiate.  As  her  hus- 
band entered  the  room,  her  first  words  were,  “ Oh,  what 
sweet  thoughts  I have  had  of  Jesus  ! I am  so  afraid  I shall 
lose  the  sweetness  of  his  name,  if  I should  get  well ; but  he 
can  help  me,  so  that  I shall  not  lose  its  savor  even  amid  the 
busy  cares  of  this  life.  How  strange  that  I slept ; but  I 
must  not  be  confident.  My  severe  pains  may  return.  Many 
days  and  nights  of  severe  sufferings  may  be  appointed  me. 


28 


Just  as  God  wills — ease  or  pain,  life  or  death ; I must  have 
no  will  of  my  own.”  Again,  she  said  to  her  husband,  “For 
some  days,  when  I was  feeling  a little  better,  I felt  satisfied 
to  come  back  and  live,  though  I am  so  afraid  I should  forget 
the  lessons  Jesus  has  taught  me.  Still,  if  I might  grow  in 
grace  every  day,  it  might  be  as  well  to  live  as  to  die  ; but  it 
would  be  sweet  to  die  and  be  with  Jesus,  and  never  sin  any 
more.  You  will  not  think  that  I do  not  love  you.  Don’t 
you  think  Jesus  would  sustain  you  ? ” 

She  spoke  much  of  death  to-day.  At  one  time  she  said, 
“ If  I die,  give  my  love  to  dear  brothers  and  sisters,  and  tell 
them  I have  had  three  of  the  kindest  nurses  ; not  one  wish 
that  has  not  been  gratified ; not  a comfort  that  I desired,  that 
has  not  been  granted  to  me.  So  far  as  I can  see,  my  illness 
is  owing  to  no  imprudence.  I was  quite  well  during  our 
journey  home,  until  the  last  hour.  Oh,  how  thankful  I am 
that  it  did  not  take  place  in  winter,  when  we  were  all  alone. 
As  my  sickness  has  advanced,  God  has  increased  my  com- 
forts. When  in  Jeneza,  I thought  if  I could  only  get  home 
I should  be  satisfied.  I did  not  think  I should  have  such 
tender  care  during  my  illness.”  At  another  time  she  said, 
“ Every  step  of  my  life  has  been  ordered  by  God.  I never 
had  one  regret  that  I came  here.  I loved  to  teach  the  chil- 
dren in  Oroomiah,  and  I have  loved  to  labor  in  the  moun- 
tains. I thought  I should  labor  many  years.  I want  my 
brothers  and  sisters  to  know,  that  I never  had  a wish  that  I 
had  not  come  to  the  Nestorians.  I rejoice  that  I could  labor 
for  them  a little  while.” 

She  took  a lively  interest  in  the  native  converts.  It  was 
on  this  Monday,  that  she  spoke  to  Miss  Rice  of  that  interest- 
ing and  remarkable  case  of  hopeful  conversion  in  Dara.* 
“ Her  bright  eye,”  as  Miss  Rice  states,  “ was  full  of  expres- 


* A young  man  in  this  Gawar  village,  who  had  never  been  much  under  the 
influence  of  the  friends  of  the  truth,  had  recently  died  a triumphant  death, 
giving  the  fullest  testimony  to  the  grace  and  power  of  Christ. 


29 


sion,  as  she  said,  I love  to  think  of  that  young  man.  I hope 
he  was  saved.” 

She  spoke  to-day  tenderly  of  her  brothers  and  sisters  in 
America,  saying,  “ I would  like  to  write  them.”  Of  Dr. 
Harris  she  said,  “ How  kind  he  has  been  to  me  ! ” and  then, 
alluding  to  a conversation  with  him  during  a dangerous 
sickness  of  his  own  wife,  added,  “ He  brought  Jesus  so 
near.  For  a moment  I thought  I saw  him,  and  oh,  how 
strengthening ! ” 

Of  her  brothers  and  sisters,  she  said  to  her  husband, 
“ They  will  love  you  very  tenderly,  and  they  will  always 
love  you,  and  be  brothers  and  sisters  to  you.”  Alluding  to 
the  relatives  of  her  husband,  whom  she  had  never  seen,  she 
said,  “ I have  often  longed  to  see  them,  but  it  will  not  be 
long,  I trust,  ere  we  meet  in  heaven.  If  I die,  tell  them  to 
meet  me  there.  Your  dear  father,  perhaps,  will  not  remain 
long  behind.” 

It  was  this  day,  that  a messenger  was  sent  to  Oroomiah. 
Her  husband  asked  her,  if  she  had  any  word  for  friends 
there.  “ Give  my  love  to  them.  Give  them  a great  deal 
of  love.  Tell  them  not  to  pray  so  much  that  I may  get 
well,  as  that  I may  be  happy  in  God’s  will ; if  my  suffering 
be  long,  that  I may  be  cheerful,  rejoice  in  it.”  Speaking  of 
the  children  here,  she  said,  “ Those  dear  children,  oh  that  I 
might  see  them  in  the  way  to  heaven.” 

Alluding  to  the  remedies  employed  for  her  relief,  she  said, 
“ I did  for  a time  feel  some  anxiety  that  they  might  relieve 
me,  but  now  I have  no  wish  whatever  about  that.”  Refer- 
ring to  the  spirit  of  submission,  which  she  had  attained,  she 
said  to  Miss  Rice,  “ I can  give  Mr.  Rhea  up  now.  I am 
willing  to  live,  and  sorrow.”  She  always  before  had  the 
impression,  that  she  should  survive  her  husband,  but  had 
never  been  able  to  acquiesce  in  the  thought  of  such  an 
event.  She  spoke  of  submission  to  the  divine  will,  as  in 
her  view  the  best  evidence  of  a child  of  God.  Referring  to 


30 


a remark  of  Cowper, — she  and  her  husband  had  recently- 
read  Dr.  Cheever’s  lectures  on  that  poet, — that  if  he  knew 
it  was  God’s  will  that  he  should  go  to  hell,  and  if  by  lifting 
his  little  finger  he  could  prevent  it,  he  would  not  do  it,  she 
said,  “ Not  that  kind  of  submission,  for  it  is  not  his  will 
that  any  should  perish.  How  could  I be  willing  to  be 
shut  out  of  his  glorious  presence,  and  never  more  speak  his 
sweet  name.  Praise  him  that  he  ever  inclined  me  to  seek 
him.” 

When  Miss  Rice  to-day  brought  her  a bottle  of  cologne,  she 
said,  “ This  reminds  me  of  their  anointing  Jesus.  How  I 
should  love  to  pour  it  on  his  head  and  feet.”  Once  her  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  at  a time  of  severe  pain,  and  looking  up 
she  said,  “ Just  as  long  as  it  may  please  thee,  oh  Savior.” 
“ You  ” — her  husband  was  standing  by  her — “ are  weary 
of  hearing  my  groans  ; may  I never  be  weary  of  looking 
unto  Jesus”  One  of  the  native  women  standing  by,  she 
said,  “ I thank  God,  that  some  of  the  poor  people  know  how 
to  die — have  learned  to  look  to  Jesus  in  a dying  hour.” 

Her  husband  asked  her  if  she  was  happy.  She  replied, 
“ I think  so.  My  mind  is  very  clear.  Jesus  has  forgiven 
all  my  sins.  He  is  not  quite  so  near  as  I wish  him  to  be ; 
still  I think  he  does  stand  by  me.  He  won’t  let  me  sink. 
If  I take  my  eyes  from  Jesus  one  moment,  I sink.  Every 
moment  requires  almighty  power  to  sustain  me.”  “ It  seems 
to  me  that  I am  the  chief  of  sinners,  but  then  Jesus  takes 
me,  and  says,  I will  cleanse  thee  from  all  thy  stains.”  “ I 
love  to  think  of  Christ  as  my  tender  friend.  It  seems  now 
as  if  one  great  reason  why  he  suffered,  was  to  convince  us 
of  his  love.” 

She  said  again,  “ I wonder  that  I look  forward  so  calmly 
to  death.  Oh,  could  I believe  that  I should  go  down  to  the 
grave  without  one  cloud?”  “ Jesus,  reveal  thyself  to  me. 
Let  me  see  thy  face.  Manifest  thy  love,  if  not  in  healing,  in 
supporting  me.  Jesus,  help  me  to  bear  all  for  thee.  I am 


31 


so  weak,  but  Jesus  will  bear  me  in  his  arms,  the  weakest  of 
all  his  flock.” 

Monday  was  followed  by  a night  of  great  restlessness,  and 
Tuesday  morning  found  her  exhausted,  and  her  spirit  worn. 
She  said  to  her  husband  as  he  entered  the  room,  “Pray 
for  me,  I don’t  want  to  be  impatient.  I want  to  lie  in  his 
hands  without  one  groan,  and  bear  it  all ; but  my  poor  body 
is  broken  down ; my  strength  is  all  gone.”  Yes,  dear  child 
of  God,  we  who  ministered  at  your  bedside,  and  with  burst- 
ing hearts  witnessed  your  agonizing  pains,  will  testify  to  the 
truth  of  what  you  say.* 

It  was  obvious  to  us  all,  that  her  sufferings  were  far  greater 
than  one  would  infer  from  the  outward  expression  of  them. 
She  clung  to  the  Lord  Jesus,  in  the  midst  of  her  bodily  ago- 
nies, with  a firm  grasp,  and  his  grace  and  power  were  marvel- 
ously displayed  in  cheering  and  sustaining  his  handmaid. 
We  could  but  admire,  and  adore. 

Tuesday,  the  15th,  her  malady  moved  steadily  on  towards 
a crisis.  She  was  evidently  sinking  away.  Some  symptoms 
appeared,  which  precluded  the  hope  of  recovery.  From 
eight  to  twelve  o’clock  the  following  night,  I watched  by  her 
side.  A portion  of  that  time  she  was  more  easy,  but  the  last 
hour  and  a half,  her  sufferings  were  excruciating  ; and  oh, 
how  my  heart  ached  for  her,  and  what  more  could  I do  for 
her  than  I had  done  ? The  hour  seemed  a day,  and,  as  her 
dear  husband  came  in,  my  heart  ached  for  him  as  he  must  be 
a witness  of  her  agonies  as  I had  been.  At  two  o’clock  we 
made  another  attempt  to  procure  some  repose  for  her,  which 

* It  is  the  opinion  of  learned  physicians,  that  the  malady  which  so  suddenly 
and  so  fatally  prostrated  this  beloved  missionary,  though  very  obscure  and  un- 
common, is  necessarily  one  of  the  most  painfully  agonizing  and  incurable  of 
all  acute  diseases  ; and  it  should  be  further  stated  upon  the  same  authority, 
that  this  fatal  malady  was  probably  in  no  respect  the  result  of  the  peculiar  ex- 
posures, vicissitudes  and  labors  incident  to  this  sister’s  missionary  life ; nor 
would  the  result  probably  have  been  different  had  Providence  ordered  that  her 
last  sickness  should  be  endured  by  her  in  America,  rather  than  amid  the 
mountains  of  Koordistan. — Note  by  an  American  Physician. 


it  seemed  she  must  have,  or  die,  from  the  intensity  of  her 
sufferings,  and  this  time  we  were  successful.  She  soon  fell 
into  a sleep,  which  continued  for  a little  while.  After  this 
she  had  no  violent  paroxysms  of  pain,  but  every  symptom 
was  unfavorable.  As  I entered  her  room  Wednesday  morn- 
ing, after  a few  hours  of  rest,  I read  in  her  face,  as  my 
eye  fell  upon  it,  the  sad  truth  that  the  hand  of  death  was 
upon  her,  and  that  she  would  soon  be  called  to  pass  the  dark 
river. 

Her  words  to-day  were  few.  These  few,  like  those  which 
fell  from  her  lips  on  previous  days,  were  all  clear,  evincing 
a tender  love  to  her  Savior,  and  an  eye  fixed  on  him.  In 
the  forenoon  her  husband  said  to  her,  “Martha,  is  Jesus 
near  ? ” Her  prompt  reply  was,  “ Oh  yes,”  and  as  often  as 
this  question  was  put  to  her,  this  was  her  reply.  When  asked 
by  him  if  she  could  join  in  a prayer  in  a soft,  gentle  tone, 
she  said,  “ I am  too  faint,  I can  only  pray  a word  or  two  at  a 
time.”  Once  she  said  to  him,  “ Thank  Jesus  that  he  does 
not  leave  me.” 

In  the  afternoon,  seeing  the  flowing  tears  of  her  husband, 
she  beckoned  to  him  to  lean  over  her.  She  then  threw  her 
arms  around  his  neck,  and  gave  him  her  farewell  embrace. 
When  near  four  o’clock,  he  asked  her  if  she  had  any  pain. 
She  replied,  “Not  much;  oh,  it  is  so  easy,”  alluding  no 
doubt  to  her  death. 

Not  long  after  this,  she  said,  “ My  thoughts  are  very  clear, 
but  I can’t  express  them.  You  don’t  understand  me.”  He 
replied,  “ Yes,  we  understand  perfectly.”  When  asked  by 
him,  if  she  had  any  word  for  brothers  or  sisters,  with  an 
effort  she  said,  “ In  Oroomiah  ? ” Mr.  Rhea  replied,  “ Yes, 
and  in  America.”  A few  moments  passed,  when  she  said, 
though  with  some  difficulty,  “ I will  see,  perhaps — .”  These 
were  her  last  words. 

Still,  after  this  her  hearing  was  distinct,  and  she  would  reply 
to  questions  by  a nod  of  the  head,  or  gentle  pressure  of  the 


hand,  that  “ Jesus  was  near,”  “ All  was  bright.”  It  was  at 
this  time  that  the  lines  were  gently  repeated  in  her  hearing  : 

“ And  let  this  feeble  body  fail, 

And  let  it  faint  or  die  ; 

My  soul  shall  quit  the  mournful  vale. 

And  soar  to  worlds  on  high  : 

“ Shall  join  the  disembodied  saints, 

And  find  its  long-sought  rest, 

(That  only  bliss  for  which  it  pants,) 

In  the  Redeemer’s  breast.” 

Also  the  lines : 

“ Jesus  can  make  a dying  bed 

Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are  ; 

While  on  his  breast  I lean  my  head, 

And  breathe  my  life  out  sweetly  there.” 

The  pulse  gradually  failed — the  breath  became  shorter — 
till  just  at  the  sun-set  hour,  the  spirit  of  the  dear  one  took  its 
upward  flight  with  a convoy  of  angels,  and  all  that  was  left 
with  us  were  her  lifeless  remains,  her  earthly  tabernacle. 
She  had  lived  twenty-nine  years,  five  months  and  twelve 
days. 

During  the  day,  the  people  of  the  village  had  been  coming 
in,  taking  a last  look  at  the  sinking  one,  and  retiring  with 
flowing  tears,  saying,  “God  is  taking  away  our  light.” 
When  the  scene  closed,  several  of  them  were  around  the  bed, 
and  many  others  soon  gathered  in.  Deacon  Tamo  led  in  an 
affecting  and  appropriate  prayer.  On  Friday,  the  18th, 
funeral  services  were  conducted  in  Syriac  in  the  village 
church,  in  the  presence  of  a deeply  sympathizing  audience ; 
after  which  we  performed  the  last  sad  rites  to  the  dear  depart- 
ed, laying  her  remains  by  the  side  of  those  of  our  brother 


Crane,  in  the  little  picket  enclosure,  made  a few  days  before 
by  our  now  bereaved  brother,  there  to  rest  till  the  morn  of 
the  resurrection. 

It  is  needless  that  I dwell  on  the  well-known  character  of 
the  dear  one  whom  we  mourn.  But  two  or  three  points 
were  so  marked  in  it,  that  I cannot  refrain  from  alluding  to 
them.  It  must  have  been  obvious  to  us  all,  that  she  was  en- 
dowed with  an  intellect  of  rare  strength  and  clearness , and 
that  it  was  richly  cultivated.  Her  mind  grasped  very  difficult 
and  abstruse  subjects.  The  solving  of  problems  in  Arithme- 
tic and  the  higher  mathematics  was  a pastime  to  her.  If  she 
had  made  this  department  a special  study,  she  would  not 
have  fallen  a whit  behind  distinguished  professors  of  this 
branch  of  learning  in  our  colleges.  But  there  was  nothing 
one-sided  in  her  intellect.  She  easily  acquired  every  species  of 
knowledge.  Her  attainments  in  English  literature  were  very 
considerable.  She  was  fond  of  languages.  Of  her  own  tongue 
she  had  an  excellent  knowledge.  She  wrote  with  precision 
and  power.  She  readily  acquired  the  Syriac  language,  and 
used  it  effectively.  Of  French  she  had  a respectable  knowl- 
edge ; and,  as  has  been  already  stated,  she  mastered  the  rudi- 
ments of  Hebrew.  Her  mental  culture  was  superior.  When 
young,  she  had  carefully  improved  her  opportunities.  She 
used  to  say,  the  remark  was  often  made  by  some  persons, 
that,  if  they  could  live  life  over  again,  they  would  better  im- 
prove such  and  such  opportunities  for  mental  culture ; but, 
for  her  own  part,  she  did  not  see  how  she  could  have  made 
more  of  hers  than  she  had  done. 

Her  strong  and  clear  intellect  shone  out  with  wonderful 
brightness  during  her  protracted  and  painful  illness.  Disease* 
instead  of  weakening,  seemed  to  strengthen  it.  We  were 
often  astonished  by  the  beauty  of  her  expressions,  as  well  as 
by  the  clearness  of  her  ideas. 

We  must  all  have  observed  also,  that  energy  of  character 
was  beautifully  blended  with  gentleness  of  heart  and  refine- 


ment  of  manner,  in  our  departed  sister.  She  left  the  paternal 
roof,  to  seek  a field  of  usefulness  in  the  far  West,  even  when 
her  father  was  reluctant  that  she  should  go  out  from  him 
to  meet  the  conflicts  of  life.  She  bade  adieu  to  her  kin- 
dred and  country  at  the  call  of  duty,  a solitary  female. 
And  at  every  step  since,  in  the  course  of  her  missionary 
life,  both  in  Oroomiah  and  in  Gawar,  she  has  exhibited  a 
strength  of  heart  and  energy  of  character  truly  admirable. 
With  all  this  strength  and  efficiency  were  united  great  gen- 
tleness and  refinement.  She  possessed  no  rough,  repulsive 
points — in  disposition,  in  manner,  all  was  quiet,  gentle,  deli- 
cate, lovely,  winning. 

Her  self-control  was  remarkable.  Rarely,  if  ever,  was  she 
highly  excited.  When  tried,  as  every  female  missionary 
often  is  by  the  people  around  her,  or  by  her  domestics,  she 
never  sharply  retorted  under  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  but 
possessed  her  soul  in  patience,  and  sought  retirement. 

Her  piety  was  deep  and  controlling,  characterized  by  prin- 
ciple rather  than  by  emotion.  Strong  as  her  mental  powers 
were,  they  were  all  brought  into  entire  subjection  to  the 
divine  will.  Her  mind,  her  heart,  her  whole  soul  were  laid 
on  the  altar,  a whole  sacrifice  to  the  Lord  Jesus.  Her  devo- 
tion was  supreme.  In  her  religious  exercises  there  was 
nothing  ecstatic  or  fitful.  Her  piety  was  rather  like  the 
broad,  deep,  gently  flowing  river,  than  the  shallow,  narrow, 
noisy  stream. 

But  I detain  you,  brethren  and  sisters,  too  long,  though 
we  love  to  dwell  on  this  theme,  and  cherish  these  precious 
memories.  To  our  sorrowing  brother,  if  I could,  I would 
speak  some  word  of  comfort  to  reach  his  wounded  spirit ; I 
would  pour  the  oil  of  healing  into  his  lacerated  heart ; but 
I know  not  what  to  say.  His  grief  is  too  great  to  be  med- 
dled with.  But,  dear  brother,  your  treasure  is  not  lost  ; 
it  is  safe  in  heaven.  Your  beloved  has  only  gone  before, 
entered  into  rest,  and  awaits  your  coming.  As  she  sweetly 


36 


said  to  you,  wiping  away  your  flowing  tears,  as  you  stood  by 
her  bedside,  “You  will  soon  follow.”  “The  Lord  will  take 
care  of  you.”  “All  is  right.”  You  prize  her  love.  She 
loves  you  still,  and  that  too  with  a purer,  more  holy  love. 
As  she  longed  to  do,  she  has  fallen  at  Jesus’  feet ; she  has 
looked  lovingly  into  his  face  ; she  has  realized  all  she  hoped 
for,  while  a pilgrim  here  with  you. 

Beloved  brethren  and  sisters,  we  too  are  hastening  on  to 
the  end  of  our  pilgrimage.  The  departed  was  one,  whose 
sound  health  promised  a longer  life  than  that  of  most  of  us ; 
but  health  is  no  security  against  the  inroad  of  disease.  The 
time  is  short,  very  short.  Let  us  live  and  labor  with  eternity 
just  in  view,  looking  unto  Jesus. 

And  to  you,  dear  children,  a voice,  a loud  voice  comes. 
Your  beloved  teacher  has  gone — she  will  write  you  no  more 
sweet  notes — she  will  sing  with  you  no  more  sweet  songs — 
you  will  no  more  welcome  her  in  our  circle,  as  you  used  to 
do,  gathering  around  and  sitting  at  her  feet,  and  looking  up 
into  her  full,  clear,  speaking  eye.  No ; she  has  gone  from 
our  sight,  to  live  with  Jesus  in  heaven.  Look  unto  him  as 
she  did — love  and  serve  him  as  she  did — and  then  you  too 
shall  go  and  live  with  him  forever,  in  that  house  not  made 
with  hands,  above. 

It  was  inquired  of  Mrs.  Rhea  on  the  last  day,  “ Have  you 
any  message  for  brothers  and  sisters?”  “In  Oroomiah?” 
she  asked.  “ Yes,  and  America,”  was  the  answer.  “ I will 
see ; perhaps — ” was  the  only  reply  she  was  able  to  make. 


Unsent  was  the  message — the  dying  lips  sealed, 

The  last  thoughts  of  that  heart  were  never  revealed ; 
Yet,  oh  send  us,  dearest,  some  message  of  love, 

Bid  some  whisper  reach  us  from  mansions  above. 


37 


Oh  tell  us,  who  faint  in  the  wearisome  way, 

Of  the  rest  that  awaits  in  the  regions  of  day ; 

Oh  for  a sweet  glimpse  of  that  blessed  abode — 

Of  the  fullness  of  joy  in  the  presence  of  God. 

We’d  know  in  what  language  the  ransomed  repeat 
Their  wonders  of  love,  as  they  fall  at  his  feet : 

We’d  know  in  what  language  the  Seraphim  raise, 

As  they  bend  ’neath  the  throne,  their  anthems  of  praise. 

Forbid  us  to  mourn  over  loved  ones  who  sleep  ; 

While  we  see  not  their  bliss,  their  absence  we  weep. 

Oh  tell  how,  amid  all  the  glories  above, 

They  remember  us  still,  and  cease  not  to  love. 

And  oh  tell  how  far  our  conceptions  above, 

Is  the  wonderful  height  of  our  Savior’s  love ; 

How,  while  endless  ages  onward  shall  roll, 

Its  fullness  can  meet  all  the  wants  of  the  soul. 

And  oh  tell  of  that  wisdom,  that  guides  all  our  way  ; 

Oh  could  we  but  know,  we  should  haste  to  obey  : 

Tell  how,  while  the  heirs  of  his  glory  he’ll  prove, 

He’ll  never  take  from  them  the  arms  of  his  love. 


Oroomiah,  Oct.  27,  1857. 


1 


